


Footsteps

by severity_softly



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5698591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/severity_softly/pseuds/severity_softly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hot tub is more consistent than a man (but not what Emily needs).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Footsteps

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published October 2008. Written for the Emily Prentiss Appreciation Day (http://aoibhe.livejournal.com/168239.html). Takes place after Paradise (4x4) and references Emily and Derek's conversation at the beginning of the episode. Thanks to innerslytherin for the beta!

Emily heard the footsteps behind her. She wasn't worried. She knew who it was already. She couldn't mistake the sound of Morgan's gait: comfortable, cocky, even steps, usually--though when he was hurt, one step was slightly shorter than the other.

She sort of hated that she knew all that. The team was close, but Emily was certain the way she had Morgan's entire body memorized was playing with fire. She'd compensated by pushing him away before she let him get too close. It was easy. He was fun to tease because he teased right back, but lately it was getting harder. Lately Emily had found herself feeling lonely more and more when she went home at night. She'd nearly brought an orphaned girl home with her from a case, and she'd actually been _disappointed_ when she'd figured out that Detective Cooper in New York was married with child, even if a long distance relationship was the last thing she would have even wanted.

"Hey, where you going?" Morgan's voice cut through her thoughts, and she smiled, her back still to him as she walked to her car.

"I told you. Date," she dismissed.

"Right, right. Didn't you stand that date up a couple night's ago?" 

There was a grin in his voice, and Emily turned to look at him, walking backwards. "I think I'll be forgiven. I had a good excuse."

"Maybe," Morgan conceded, and then Emily backed into her car, and she sucked in a surprised breath when she couldn't go anywhere and Morgan was right in front of her. "You know, if you're looking for a way to warm up..."

Emily stared at him a moment, going a little cold when she realized that Morgan may have caught on to her. For that matter, he might have caught onto her a long time ago. "If I'm looking for a way to warm up, my hot tub is far more consistent than any man," she said finally.

She wanted to kick herself when Morgan's brows drew together. He pressed his lips together, and then nodded, and she could _see_ him covering up wounded pride, building up that wall of charm again, charm that masked the real man underneath.

He wanted her too, and this time, she'd _really_ rejected him.

 _Shit_.

"Touche," Morgan said, giving her another grin and nudging her shoulder playfully. "I'll see you bright and early," he added, and then started to walk away.

She nearly let him too. She watched him go, and then just when he was almost out of earshot, she blurted, "I don't know how to respond to that." It wasn't what she'd meant to say, but she straightened anyway, curling her fingers in the edge of her blazer and not looking away.

"Respond to what?" Morgan asked when he turned around.

 _The playful flirting, the fact that you want me. I told you ages ago I was no good at this, and I can't figure out what you want_. He'd walked most of the way back to her before she found something to say, and even then, it was just a vague, "That," with an equally vague gesture attached.

Morgan stared at her. She pressed her lips together and frowned, then looked away, thinking. 

"Never mind," she said, shaking her head. After a moment, though, the missed opportunity started to tug uncomfortably at her. It wouldn't let her go. What did she have to lose? She doubted Morgan would hold this against her if it didn't go the right way, or that Hotch would fire either of them if he found out. Finally, she shifted her purse to pull out a paper and pen, then started scribbling. Oh, this was stupid. "You know, you're still not invited."

Morgan's expression actually took on a hint of irritation then, and she couldn't blame him. She knew she sounded like she was just pressing a dead issue now. "Yeah, I heard you loud and clear," he said, and turned again.

She reached out and grabbed his hand. "You're not invited," she said again, catching and holding his gaze. She drew a deep breath. "You're expected." She squeezed his hand, the paper she'd written on between their skin, and pulled away, leaving her address, in tight, slanty cursive, in his hand.

His eyebrows lifted in surprise, and her heart gave a weird kick in her chest, but when she turned to get in her car without looking back, she couldn't wipe the grin off her face.


End file.
